Standard Issue Refrain
by a tattered rose
Summary: Laura knows the time to pray. Like now, scavenging BDUs from the floor, shoving her sidearms anywhere they'd stay and hoping like all hell she'd managed to get her buttons into the right holes before she fled. Cadman and Lorne UST-ish.


Summary: Laura knows there are some times you need to pray to a higher power.

Spoilers: None, so far as I know.

A/N: Super special thanks to RowenaR, who was my accidental intro to the pairing and I'm sure motivated a large section of this daydream. As to the rest: guess what happened when I awoke this morning . ? I rarely manage to write humour, or anything resembling a plot. I may not have here, either, but it was certainly a fun exercise.

Rating now downgraded. Language isn't _that_ bad, at worst it's borderline, everyone's seen worse, and when I finally write my first M rated fic, there's going to be some -smut- gosh darn it.

Disclaimer: I own not Cadman, nor Lorne, nor any part of the Stargate world. This is merely the work of a borrowing.

* * *

Consciousness stole in with a light tread, so that she was first aware only of the unexpected sensation of complete contentment. While she slept the pillows and blanket had tangled into the perfect nest for her sprawled limbs, and every inch of her was thanking its good fortune. She promised herself a few minutes to luxuriate, lazing one eye over to check on the ti- _Shit! Shit! Oh shit!_

She had thrown herself from the bed before the first expletive was fully formed, hitting the floor with a bone jarring thud before she could disentangle herself from her sheets. The pain only added emphasis to the mantra. _Shit, shit oh shit._

Laura had never been particularly religious, never saw the point. But that didn't mean she didn't, especially during stressful times, pray. Like now, when she was undressed and hopping from her covers at a moment when she ought to have been fully dressed and out the door no later than five minutes before.

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit._

Half of it came out aloud, half only in her head. She wasn't really paying attention, it didn't really matter, either way it was a constant mantra. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit._ She was -sure- she'd set the alarm, was almost positive it had woken her an hour before and all she'd done was hit snooze. Yet here she was, without warning, scavenging BDUs from the floor, shoving her sidearms anywhere they'd stay and hoping like all hell she'd managed to get her buttons into the right holes before she fled the room.

Much later, in the calm moments of retrospective than follow all taints of panic, she maybe remembered laughter as she streaked through the halls of Atlantis on her way to the briefing room. But at the time, she was moving too quickly to register passing conversations, and her heart was pounding too loudly to hear them in any case. If it had been a regular mission, she would have merely walked quickly and joked it off when she arrived. But the _special assignment_ had been transmitted the night before and her training expected naught but the strictest professionalism to grace this day. Excepting her monumental alarm flub _oh shit oh shit oh shit._

The door to the briefing room was already open. One hand grabbing the jam, she flung herself inside without slowing her stride to find herself-

_Oh shit._

-Facing Major Lorne. The most strait-laced, by-the-book CO who could possibly be leading this mission. _Oh double shit._ The one mild boon was that he was the only one fully geared, so she headed for the remaining untouched collection of equipment (lots of explosives, thank god for small favours) and began packing.

"Nice of you to join us, Lieutenant." She wasn't looking at him but the words were icy enough to raise the tiny hairs on her neck. _Crap. Crap crap crap. _A part of her hating to give up the _"_shit" refrain, but once she'd arrived and especially, seen today's toys, her anxiety had downgraded.

"Sorry sir." _Crap crap crap crap crap. _That mantra was a good one for "oh yeah, strait-laced CO _definitely _noticed I'm late." Glancing around, the other team members had noticed as well, though at least their visages projected the good-humoured mockery that she could wipe off later with one good hand at poker.

At least that seemed to be all he had to say on the subject. She might have been tardy, but she was also efficient, and wasn't the last to finish stowing her gear as Lorne paced slowly around the room. Her inner litany had almost vanished by the time they were all standing at attention and Lorne gave the customary "Head out." For the first time that morning, she was breathing easy.

Right up until he continued. "Cadman, hang back."

_Damn damn damn damn damn. _

Her heart rate escalated again, but this time it was more of an all-purpose dread, such as "about to be privately reamed by strait-laced, by-the-book CO." _Damn. Almost_ clear.

Lorne was circling her again, and she was fighting the urge to fidget. Even so, she started visibly when he yoinked something off of her back pocket. _Oh god_ was he finicking over _strings_ now?

"Try to keep to standard issue gear next time, 'k?" The weary authoritarian voice behind her was merely memory of all the hours she had ever spent cleaning herself up to get where she was now, light years from Earth running super dangerous, super exotic missions and really?

Laura wasn't sure what he meant. What, had she grabbed a bad t-shirt? No, a brief check down told her, looked alright from here... oh. _Oh fuck._

He'd moved in front of her now, and hooked on one finger were a pair of lacey, red - _oh fucking hell, lacey and fucking red – _underwear. _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck._ She grabbed them away and stuffed them deep in a pocket, but there was no erasing the fact that they had been – _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck _attached to her the whole morning. There was no way she could meet his eyes just now, but her mouth _oh fuck _her mouth moved of its own accord.

"Just thought I'd brighten up the uniform a bit, sir." _Fuck fuck fuck oh Jesus fucking fuck _was definitely an appropriate invocation for "strait-laced, by-the-book and manly CO just pulled last night's frilly panties off my combat uniform!" _Oh fuck. _ And then she'd smart-mouthed him about it. _Oh fuck fuck fuck._

Finally, she dredged up the courage to look him in the eye, but he was already heading for the door. "Head out, Lieutenant."

There was nothing else for it. She followed him to the gate room, trying to will her red cheeks into cool calm complacency. _Oh fuck_ that was embarrassing, but none of the eyes meeting hers held anything more than ironic sympathy. Maybe they hadn't seen. It would be out soon enough but just getting through this mission was enough for now. If they didn't yet know, if Lorne wouldn't tell, if she got to blow shit up, she'd deal with the fallout later.

The iris blew out, settling into the familiar promise of adventure. With the rest, she headed up the ramp, thinking nothing of it when Lorne called out "Cadman, take the rear." She hung back, letting herself be outpaced, until she suddenly found herself with a new type of recitation.

_... ... uh ... _ It had no words, no sense, no meaning. Perfect in reaction to "strait-laced, by-the-book and manly CO, who just pulled last night's frilly panties off my combat uniform just, without doubt, just -WINKED- at me before stepping through the Stargate! !!"

Words or no words, prayer or no, the alarm was sounding just for her. So, hiking up her jaw and gathering her wits, Laura Cadman strode though the Stargate with her explosives, ready for whatever might come.


End file.
